


Dear Viktor

by Zara_Zara



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Ghost!Victor, Grief/Mourning, Healing, I just vibe with it, I'm sorry If I miss a tag, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, alternative universe, because i do - Freeform, do people prefer Viktor over Victor?, ghost au, grief and recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zara/pseuds/Zara_Zara
Summary: A year after winning gold, Viktor dies at the devastatingly young age of 17, and sends the skating world and fans all over into a pit of collective grief. Yuuri is equally caught up in in the shock of Viktor's death, so much so that it nearly makes him swear off the ice forever.Time passes, and Yuuri is still not over Viktor's death. One day, his therapist suggests he do something that Yuuri initially thinks is rather ridiculous: he begins writing messages to Viktor. And he never could've imagined that his messages would be heard from the other side.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I only wanted this to be a short one shot but then it became a monster. However, this is likely going to be a three parter, if not a four parter of 15k words at the very least.

The lights are a dim caramel orange and the smell of food still lingers in the air like a pleasant afterthought. Yuuri and Yuuko are warm and pleased as cats after spending the whole morning playing on the ice. Yuuri lethargically lays on his stomach with a sweet taste in his mouth after the cookies Yuuko shared with him. Yuuri’s eyes keep fluttering open and shut, open and shut---a nap badly wants to sink him under for a promising rest. But Yuuri resists because there are skaters dancing within the tv screen and he wants to watch their every move. The skaters look like fairies on the ice, their colorful costumes floating like bright flower petals on the shining white slate of the ice. 

A song comes on, slow and sweet; the dancer’s movements are equally so, slow and sweet as caramel. Something about it all induces Yuuri into a softer dream-like state and he sighs and closes his eyes. He imagines himself on the ice. He thinks about what music he’d choose. What movements he’d made. He imagines making the jumps that’d shoot him up to the sky even if it was only for a second.

Suddenly, a warm weight crashes on his back, “Yuuri! Wake up!” Yuuri startles and pushes his attacker off him. Rubbing his blurry sleep-vision away, Yuuri blinks to find Yuuko’s face flushed in wonder and excitement. He’s a bit peeved over the fact that she just tried to break his spine and she’s not even looking at him. And he’s also a little embarrassed about having fallen asleep. He’s not a little kid anymore; he’s ten years old! Yuuko shakes him and says, “You _have_ to watch this!” 

His irritation lives a very short life in the wake of seeing Yuuko so excited and awe-struck. Regardless, Yuuri grumbles as he sits up with growing curiosity and looks at the tv screen. 

And then...And then he understands. If all those other skaters had been fairies, then this skater is another entity entirely. The boy---Viktor Nikiforov is his name---lights up the rink as gracefully as a living star. His movements burn up the ice in mesmerizing beauty as the song he dances to soars alongside him, invisible to the eye, but expressed through his dance. The boy has a _presence_ that makes Yuuri shiver in place. Yuuri leans forward on his hands and watches the screen with wide, wide eyes. Any lingering feelings of sleep have well and truly been blasted away. The boy on the ice demands attention. It is as if he is saying _look at me._ _Don’t look away._

Even if he tried, Yuuri could not have looked away. 

The dance is beautiful and the boy is beautiful. He has long platinum hair that swims in the air as the boy dances and spins. Yuuri and Yuuko gasp at the boy’s perfect jumps and spins. They shake each other and go crazy after a particularly beautiful series of movements. Yes, Viktor is something else entirely and it’s disappointing when his program comes to an end. Yuuri could’ve stayed sitting in Yuuko’s living room watching the boy dance forever. But it’s over. And despite the dance being over it is worth it to see the boy’s glimmering diamond smile. Viktor’s chest quickly rises and falls, that’s the only visible sign that he’d exerted any effort during that flawless routine. Even _Yuuri’s_ chest rapidly rises and falls; insanely, he feels just as breathless as if he’d done Viktor’s program himself and he’d only just been sitting watching him dance. Yuuko is talking but Yuuri doesn’t hear her. He is entranced as he watches Viktor’s blue eyes first look to the sky for a long drawn out moment before falling back to earth and sweeping across the crowds with burning bright pride. 

A few years later, Yuuri and Yuuko later watch him win gold. They jump around laughing in delight. Viktor's win feels like a win for them all. Yuuri had always known Viktor would one day win gold. Ever since Yuuri had first seen Viktor skate, a fire of inspiration had been lit from within Yuuri. And now, that fire is explosive with celebration and victory. He watches Viktor hold his hard-earned gold medal in a sort of a caressing hold, and he watches him bring the medal to his lips and give it a tender kiss. The reflected gold dapples his face for a moment and Yuuri wants to capture that image in his head forever.

At that moment, the ice calls to Yuuri. He dearly wants to visit the ice rink and skate, skate, skate. Just skate for the joy of it and for the love of it. 

Yuuri clenches a hand over where his heart is, _I will be there with you one day._

***

It was a freak accident they said. A careless car; an icy road; a sea of broken glass; and a dead young boy. 

Yuuri finds out in the most mundane way possible.

It is the morning and his hair is still an unbrushed dark cloud around his head. He's left his glasses by his bedside table. He forgot them and didn’t much feel like making the trek back to his room to retrieve them. So, everything is just a little blurry and soft around the edges as if he’s still asleep. Vicchan sits and patiently waits for Yuuri to give in and give him scraps of food when his parents aren’t looking. Breakfast passes as quietly and sleepily as a sailboat on the water. 

The only tv the family owns is in the inn’s lobby. It is always set to the news or some drama show that Yuuri’s mother can casually watch as she runs the reception area. This is where Yuuri passes through each day on his way outside. And this is the site where Yuuri’s world comes crashing down. 

Initially, Yuuri’s ears perk up when he hears Viktor’s name spoken on the news. Perhaps the Sports section was on the news and they are sharing new information about his favorite skater. Yuuri practically skips over to the TV and eagerly listens to whatever they have to say about his idol. 

He’s only there for a second before a cold breeze raises goosebumps all over his body and hollows him out. The horrible things he hears coming from the tv are so at odds with what he’d been expecting that nothing of what is said truly sinks in. Images of a devastating car crash are pictured on the screen. He’s seen car crashes on the news before. Maybe they are talking about another Viktor? He can’t read the writing on the header, it says Viktor Nikiforov--- but it could be another Viktor! The cars look fake. They look fake and blurry---Yuuri blinks in distress because suddenly he can’t see and there’s a ringing in his ears and he can’t hear anything. Yuuri presses his fists onto his eyes and he crashes on the ground. Yuuri looks at the screen one last time before he’s cleaved in two. 

When Yuuri wakes up he’s deeply confused and feels brittle as ash. He’s in bed and doesn’t remember at all how he ended up there. The blankets covering him are miserably warm and Yuuri kicks them off himself. Grabbing his glasses, Yuuri searches for his clock and startles when he sees the time. It’s evening. He never takes naps because they make him feel gross and weird after. 

When Yuuri gets up, dizziness strikes him. Is he sick? He leans against his desk and waits for the nausea to pass. Upon opening his bedroom door, Yuuri finds some relief in seeing his mother in the hallway. It looks like she was just about to come to his door. He’s confused as he watches her whole expression lift in relief, "Yuuri!" She rushes to him and frets, “How do you feel? We were so worried about you. We were going to take you to the hospital.” 

“I don’t know what happened.” Yuuri shakes his head and presses a palm against a building headache. Distantly, he remembers the slow morning and something else. But that something else is blurry. “What happened? Did I...Did I faint or something?” Yuuri tugs at his hair; panic begins to slowly seep in. He can’t remember what happened. Something happened, obviously... But what?

Yuuri’s mother gently grabs his hands and eases them away from his hair. Hiroko holds them warmly between her own. “Yes…” She pauses, “You were watching the news this morning and then you fainted. I was so worried! Your face was wet as if you’d been crying. Were you crying, honey? I thought maybe you suddenly caught a fever but you aren’t warm right now…Maybe we should take you to the hospital...” She murmured that last bit quietly to herself. 

Yuuri’s confusion only intensifies and all of it focuses on a single word---Crying? Why had he been crying? He rakes his mind for a possible reason. It's as if his mind is full of tunnels and funhouse mirrors, his memories stubbornly refuse to illuminate him. Suddenly, he remembers the hot fall of tears blurring his vision and that awful ringing noise in his ears and---and he remembers what it was. “Oh my God, mom,” Yuuri gasps and throws himself at her. He starts crying again, forceful breathtaking sobs. It’s like something completely other than himself has taken over. He can’t stop the tears and he can’t stop the pain currently coursing through him in a tidal wave of grief. He hears his mother’s panicked voice begging her to tell him what’s wrong, but he can’t answer unless she wants him to choke on his tears. They stay there in the hallway, Yuuri held tightly in his mother’s arms, as he cries into her shoulder over a reason that he wishes weren't true.

***

Yuuri doesn’t skate again. He can’t. 

Just thinking of the ice sends a wave of aversion so strongly within him that he struggles to breathe. At first, Yuuko is the same. Both of them are hit hard by the devastating news and the two of them feel connected through their shared grief. However, it doesn’t take long before Yuuko returns to the ice, a couple weeks away from it and then she’s back. Sadness still lingers in her and it’s not that Viktor’s death doesn’t hit her as hard, it’s just that—Well, Yuuri doesn’t know what it is actually. But he’s not the same. It's as if Yuuri were a doll whose limbs were taken off but never reassembled. He doesn't want to do anything and nothing appeals to him. 

Yuuri’s parents try to understand why Viktor’s death affects Yuuri so much. To them, Viktor was just some famous athlete who Yuuri had greatly admired. They struggle to understand that Yuuri’s admiration ran a little deeper than that. 

Somewhere along the way, the ice had become synonymous with Viktor. His love for the ice was shaped in Viktor’s silhouette. Yuuri had studied Viktor’s programs with a fine tooth comb. He and Yuuko imitated them on the ice and sought perfect imitations before diffusing it with their own essence. Yuuri’s room was an unofficial shrine for Viktor. He’d named his dog after him. Yuuri had entertained the thought that if he could break down and familiarize himself with Viktor’s own routines then he could be close to him in a language that they both understood. That, when he finally got to be on the same ice as Viktor, that Viktor would see and understand all that Yuuri was trying to convey. 

But that dream is broken now. Yuuri can’t skate. What would be the point? He asks himself. Sure, he likes skating in general. It makes him happy. At least it used to make him happy. Now, it has some strange sense of foreboding. As if, if he went to the ice, something bad would happen. He’s not sure what the bad thing is specifically, it’s just an overwhelming feeling of apprehension against it. So, Yuuri doesn’t go to the ice. 

***

Yuuri doesn’t miss the ice. He doesn’t miss it but he still feels its absence in every movement he makes. The awareness of its absence is startlingly vibrant through his body. He leaps instead of glides; his feet are closer to the ground; there are no blades lifting him just a bit to the sky; hen he jumps he’s almost always guaranteed to land on his feet; spinning is slower and just that little bit more human. The ground is less slippery. Less cold.

Yuuri doesn’t miss the ice. He just feels its absence. That is not the same as missing it.

***

The ocean hums a rhythmic song that acts like a balm to all of the rough and frazzled edges of Yuuri’s self. Evening sunlight delicately blushes the sands an almost rosy color. The falling rays of sunlight hit Yuuri with hints of warmth. His eyes are closed to darkness and his head is tipped low. 

There is no one way to deal with grief and Yuuri doesn’t necessarily deal with it, but he learns to live with it. Yuuri never spoke with Viktor. He never met him face to face. Yuuri never knew all the things that Viktor liked or disliked or loved---a part from figure skating. Sure, Yuuri picked up some trivia about Viktor from his interviews… but how much of what he said was true? Yuuri will never know now that Viktor's gone. And he aches with regret. And it doesn't make sense because regret should only come with something that's been lost. Does it still apply even if Yuuri had never had it?

It’s a complicated thing, the mess of tangled emotions and thoughts in his gut. His therapist is still working at helping him untangle it and yet it’s like he still hasn’t made any progress over the past eight months. He’s still sad, empty, a little angry, and lost. When he’s impatient with himself he asks himself why he’s making such a big deal about the death of an athlete. Viktor was just a famous athlete he looked up to. He didn’t _know_ him. He wasn’t family or a close friend. Is Yuuri weird for grieving in this way? Are other fans of Viktor’s acting in this manner? He isn't sure. Maybe Yuuri _is_ the weird one. But, no, he knows that Viktor was special and it’d be doing him a disservice to be upset about mourning him. But when will he ever stop mourning him? Yuuri has to stop sometime, right? Why does he feel this way? What’s wrong with him? 

Yuuri tastes blood. He bit his lip by accident. All at once he stumbles out of his mess of thoughts and inhales the fresh air of the present moment. He's at the beach. The waves are blue and loud. 

The cycle of confusion continues to spin in his head as he wipes the blood away with the back of his hand and sighs. Yuuri closes his eyes again but something wet and cold drops on Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri hears a whining noise and opens his eyes to see Vicchan trying to get his attention. Vicchan---the name hurts. He's thought about changing Vicchan’s name to something else but the mere thought of actually doing it made him feel sick---There it is, another complicated thing that Yuuri doesn't even want to try and untangle… So many tangled parts of him. It distresses him to think about it all. Will he ever be less tangled? Yuuri chews on his lip and runs his fingers through Vicchan’s fur. The ocean keeps crashing, unaware of the tangled mess of a boy on its sands. 

***

Yuuri’s room is barren. It lacks color just like the world around him does. Before, a boy blissfully covered in rainbows of colors and glittering stars blessed Yuuri’s room with his vivacity. Yuuri once admired the graceful lines of him. Now, the room is just a room.

***

Yuuri is not alone. Thankfully, he still has his family. For Yuuri, it's interesting to see them as if he were looking at them from outside. Their lives weren't affected by Viktor's as much as Yuuri's was. That, at least, made sense. And so, for the sake of his family, he attempts to reassimilate himself back into their fold. And it's fairly easy because he's always been rather quiet; the only thing that he can sense change is that everyone treats him a little less like he's a delicate glass susceptible to shattering. 

Everyone knows not to talk about figure skating, though. 

***

A year passes and Yuuri is at the beach once again. He comes here every evening for Viktor. Sometimes it's every other evening or a handful of evenings in the week. But he regularly visits the ocean for Viktor. 

Yuuri had told his therapist that he still felt ridiculous about caring about someone he didn’t even know. He told her he felt tired of being confused by himself. It’s been a year and he still isn’t ok. Don’t people grieve this long and this hard for someone they loved? A family member? A friend? Someone they _knew._ Yet here he is caring so much and so hard about someone who is, quite honestly, a stranger. When he spoke to his therapist, Yuuri’s voice had tangled up on the word “stranger” and the shame inside him had threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to be okay again. 

Yuuri’s therapist had caught onto his stumble on the word “stranger,” though. They asked him to elaborate on it and when Yuuri couldn’t she asked him to try something for her. She asked him to go somewhere he felt was a safespace and to speak with Viktor. In his mind, or out loud, or written down, or any other method he could think of. Speak with him and introduce himself. He could say more or just leave it as an introduction but she wanted him to try it. 

That was five days ago. Yuuri’s next appointment is in two days. He knows he’s put off the exercise long enough and should do it before the appointment so he doesn’t have to lie and say he did something he didn’t actually do. A notebook sits on his lap. The cover is of a purple smiling puppy and it softens an anxious part of him just a bit. Yuuri left Vicchan at home because he didn’t want to be distracted as he does the Viktor message or whatever. He’s unsure of what to even call what he’s doing. Yuuri had considered doing the exercise just in his head but his hands always have to be doing something and writing a letter appealed to him more than anything else. 

Slipping the notebook open, Yuuri stares at the blank page for a long handful of minutes. Self-consciousness buzzes around him like a hive of bees. When he looks around, the few people who are there are not even looking at him but _still._ Yuuri huffs and shakes his head. He can do this. His hand shakes as he shapes the letters to begin his message. 

_Dear Viktor,_

_Hello. My name is Katsuki Yuuri._

Yuuri drops his pen. His hand stubbornly continues to tremble even after he stopped writing. Yuuri frowns down at his handwriting; his handwriting looks unforgivably sloppy. His therapist said to write however much he felt comfortable with and that just about summed up his limits. The exercise was just to introduce himself, right? There is no need to write more. Thankfully, Yuuri's therapist won’t look in his notebook so she won’t know Yuuri tears out the page and throws it in the bin. 

***

What Yuuri doesn’t count on is pulling his notebook out again. He brings it with him to the beach out of habit more than an actual desire to actually use it. But he reopens it a couple weeks after the first try with a curiosity he can’t quite place. He wants to try and rewrite his introduction. Remembering the way his hand shook and the way his handwriting looked terrible makes him want to prove to himself that he can do better than that. When he puts his pen back to the paper, it is with an air of purpose that he actually believes in. 

_Dear Viktor,_

_My name is Katsuki Yuuri._

Yuuri pauses. What should he say? He wants to say more this time. Tapping his pen against his chin he thinks for a moment. His eyes wander over the ocean waves, not quite taking them in. And then inspiration strikes and he digs it back into the page again. 

_I’m from Hasetsu, Japan. It is a coastal town and I am at one of it’s beaches right now. There is barely anyone here but I like it like that. We don’t get much tourism during this time. My family owns an onsen and----_

And he writes on and on. He ends up writing a lot more than he expected. He writes about his parents and his sister and his dog. He admits that he named his dog after Viktor and that he hopes Viktor wouldn’t mind that too much. Yuuri writes about his favorite places in town and about Ice Castle and his best friend Yuuko. He confesses that he and Yuuko haven’t been talking a lot since Yuuri has been avoiding the ice rink. 

The sun sets and it becomes too dark to write in the journal and so Yuuri quickly retreats home. 

When he gets to his bedroom, Yuuri continues where he left off in the journal with a single-minded determination that stubbornly kicks inside him. However, unexpectedly all this writing may be to Yuuri, he refuses to think about it too much in this moment. It had taken him so long to build up the courage to write the letter for Viktor and he doesn’t want to ruin the current flow he has now. To stop writing may mean never coming back to it again, and that can’t happen because to do so would mean shutting the door on the things he wants to say.

As Yuuri writes, his hand begins to ache from trying to keep up with his thoughts. His handwriting becomes sloppy and large so that what he writes ends up taking up more pages than usual. He writes about his favorite dish for awhile, detailing how to prepare it and what it tastes like. And then he writes some other random things as he subconsciously builds up the emotional strength to be able to write about skating. 

Skating is at the edge of his mind. He’s already shared so much about himself and his life with Viktor and he hasn’t even gotten to skating. He’d been avoiding writing about it the last two hours but now that he’s come to the point where he can’t think of anything other than skating to write… He falters. His hand is too tired and his eyes and brain hurt. He’s also a little hungry. Yuuri gives one last attempt to pick up the pen but his aching fingers protest the movement and he’s forced to relent. It’s a bit of a relief and a bit of a disappointment to not write about skating. He’s not even sure where he’d begin with that subject. 

Regardless, an accomplished sort of tiredness settles over him after he closes his journal. The feeling that warms him is a lot like the one he used to get after skating a perfect program. He’d been against doing this exercise for so long; however, now that he’s finally done it he can see some merit to it. He doesn’t know how he will feel about writing to Viktor the next day. Maybe he will shut the journal up in his closet and attempt to forget about it. But, at that moment, he decides that he will leave his journal as it is and go to the kitchen and get a much deserved snack. 

None of his family notice anything different about him and that's ok. The changes are only things that Yuuri feels inside: a lightness to his steps that hasn't been there for the longest time. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Descriptions of blood and implied injury are made in this chapter.

The days following that first entry, Yuuri’s world started to be a little easier to wake up to. It seemed kinder somehow. A little more welcoming than it seemed before. But, he had been correct in thinking that he wouldn’t pick the notebook up again, at least, not immediately. He doesn’t write in it on the next day, or the day after, or a week after… But for the

***

Three months pass and Yuuri almost forgets about the journal until he’s rifling through his desk for his school journals. The surprise of seeing it again gives him some pause. Yuuri places it on top of his desk so he won't forget about it again. And when he finishes all his schoolwork and has time to kill, his eyes stray to the notebook on his desk with idle thoughts twinkling around in his mind. 

Opening the journal, Yuuri very purposefully avoids the sections that he has already written in. It surprises him to find that he had used up a lot more pages than he thought with that first entry. An echo of those accomplished feelings from before return to him and it is tinged with a bit of that past catharsis. Yuuri wants to feel that again in some shape or form and he twirls a pen around with his fingers as he thinks about where and how to begin. 

_ Dear Viktor,  _ he starts.

_ It is sunny today. In an interview you once said you loved warm weather the best because you’d get cold enough while skating, let alone living in Russia. Was that true? I like the sun as well but somehow I find I like the cold more. Maybe it’s because I’ve never experienced a Russian winter as you have. I like the cold because you can layer up and use as many sweaters and blankets and jackets as you like. More importantly, I like how it wakes me up. The cold clears my head and makes it feel sharper.  _

_ I didn’t mention this before, but I love skating.  _

Yuuri stops there. He said “I love” as in he currently loves it.  _ Still  _ loves it. Does he, though? He hasn’t skated in a year and a half. In fact, he’s been  _ avoiding  _ it. Yuuri frowns. 

***

Yuuri comes back to the entry two days later. 

_ Dear Viktor,  _

_ I love--- I loved ----- i like------  _

_ I used to skate.  _

And he stops again. 

***

Yuuri comes back to his Viktor journal in fits and starts during the week. Writing to Viktor about skating is very difficult. One day Yuuri tells Viktor about why he started skating and how he came to like it so much. 

Another day Yuuri tells him that he loved Viktor’s skating a lot and that he thought he was incredibly beautiful on the ice---here, Yuuri hurt so badly that he searched for his mother and silently asked her to hug him. He tells him that the skating world misses him (and he does too). Yuuri tells him he hopes he’s happy wherever he is. He tells him he hopes he’s skating wherever he is. Skating and Happy. 

Yuuri also writes and tells Viktor that he had memorized Viktor’s gold-winning routine. He admits that he’s unsure he would be able to pull it off now that he’s been away from the ice for so long but he’d be willing to try one day. The unintentional plans to return to the ice one day surprises Yuuri so much that he jumps from his seat and paces around his room in bewildered pleasure. 

Yuuri’s letters to Viktor continue like this for months; gradually, something loosens inside of Yuuri. It makes him feel lighter and just a bit more alive. 

  
  


***

Yuuri’s dreams aren’t always kind to him. His dreams seem to prefer to cloak themselves in sadness rather than anything sweet. Sometimes Yuuri will remember his dreams and sometimes he won't. Regardless, the aftertastes of them would linger into the waking day depending on how memorable the dreams were. 

But, sometimes his dreams are kind to him...

_ Yuuri is skating. He’s outside in the literal definition of a winter wonderland. The ice beneath his skates hums with a hidden light on the surface of its waters. And above, there is a night sky beaming a smile full of stars. An aurora borealis twists high above the land like a fairy’s scarf and Yuuri follows its trail on the mirror-like ice.  _

_ If Yuuri looks down, he can see his soft smiling face looking back at him with an expression full of joy and peace. He’s not self-conscious at all about his appearance, he doesn’t even think to think about that too much because he’s distracted by dancing. There may not be music in the sprawling winter landscape, but he hears one in his heart and mind anyway.  _

_The iced lake never seems to end. The aurora keeps spilling across the sky, as far as the eye can see. And, at that moment, Yuuri doesn’t want to stop skating at all. On a whim, he leans down to touch the ice in a gentle slide of his fingertips. He blinks when a bright glitter of light sparkles on the ice a little ways ahead of him. Odd little glowing things stick out of the ice, and on closer inspection, Yuuri sees that it is a hand. Yuuri holds it and pulls on it strongly. Next thing he knows he's falling backwards because he'd pulled too hard. Rather awe-struckedly he watches as a body gracefully leaps out of the ice. The illuminated figure spins feather-like in the air before landing quietly on the ice. They glow like a billion stars. They don’t have a face and yet somehow Yuuri gets the impression they’re smiling--warmly. The figure skates backwards, facing Yuuri as they do so, as if waiting for him to join._

_ Quickly, Yuuri joins them. He isn’t sure who starts mirroring who’s movements first but it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter if it was Yuuri who had caught up to them and mirrored their movements or if it was the figure. But it did not matter when the two of them flowed so naturally together, flying, and in tandem.  _

_ He doesn’t know how long they skate, but they dance, twirl, jump, and spin around as free as a song. At the same time, Yuuri tries to make sense of the face of the figure that dances with him. He strongly feels that he knows them. Yuuri holds his hands out, not knowing what he’s doing but feeling like he’s asking for something. The figure mirrors him and their fingers thread together, they spin in a circle, and Yuuri catches sight of a twinkle of blue. _

_ *** _

When Yuuri wakes up, there is someone else in the room with him. 

Initially, Yuuri isn’t aware of the other person in his room when he wakes up. It is late in the morning; he can tell because his body has that heavy well-rested feeling of having slept-in over the weekend. Plus, Vicchan had left his room at some point to answer Nature’s call or to have breakfast. Yuuri lets himself fade in and out of consciousness for a bit longer, but the skin on the back of his neck prickles as if he's being watched. He groggily sits up and pulls the curtains open. 

“Oh, good. You’re finally awake! Good morning!”

"Oh my God!" Yuuri shouts and scrambles backwards in his bed. Clutching a pillow to his chest he squints at his surroundings and gets a heart attack when he sees a blur of a person standing right there in his room. They may be blurry, but he can very well tell they certainly aren't someone from his family. Did one of their guests sneak into his room somehow?? Yuuri throws his pillow at them, "Get out!!"

“Hold on--”

Yuuri shouts, “Mom! Dad!” Yuuri raises his shaky hands in front of his face, “Please don’t hurt me,” 

“I won’t hurt you, Yuuri. I’m---”

The door bangs open and it’s Yuuri’s sister. “Yuuri, are you ok?! What’s wrong?”

Yuuri incredulously points at the person standing literally in front of her, “Don’t you see them?!”

"See---what?" Yuuri can’t see his sister’s face, but given the tone of her voice she sounds deeply confused, "Are you ok? Did you have a nightmare?”

Yuuri’s mouth gapes open. He still sees the blurry figure of the person there and so he scrambles for his glasses. He couldn’t grab them before because logic completely escaped his brain from the shock of waking up to someone in his room. Yuuri's hand trembles as he shakily puts his glasses on; his vision snaps into clarity. Yuuri gasps and then slaps his hands over his mouth at what he sees. 

“ _ Yuuri!”  _ Mari grabs him because she doesn’t know what else to do, “Yuuri, tell me what’s going on! I’m going to get mom and dad if you don’t.” Her eyes flit nervously between him and whatever he's seeing. 

“I---I---” Yuuri starts breathing heavily. Oh boy, he’s finally lost it. Viktor-freaking-Nikiforov is right there in his room standing in the corner. It would be a nice sight if he weren’t covered in blood. Black spots begin to cover Yuuri’s vision but he can’t stop looking at him. Is Viktor a _ghost??_ A ghost… How insane! Of course he isn’t a ghost! Yuuri’s just finally lost it! Viktor’s expression is a cross between concern and helplessness as he fades away into Yuuri’s wall. At the sight of that, Yuuri’s breathing doesn’t settle one bit, if anything it quickens. Mari keeps asking him questions that he can barely hear but she soon stops and tries to help him calm down. 

Thankfully, Mari doesn't try and ask him about what happened again. To be safe, Yuuri tells her that it was just a really bad nightmare that made him all jumpy right after waking up. She just promises that she won't tell their parents about what happened for which Yuuri is grateful. After all, how could he explain what he saw to them? 

***

Yuuri ends up leaving the house as fast as humanly possible after breakfast. He’s tempted to hangout with his sister or ask his parents if he could help with anything just so he could be near them, but he knows that would seem suspicious especially after what happened in the morning. Maybe Mari would decide that keeping what happened that morning a secret was actually a bad idea and that Yuuri needed help. If he told everyone that he'd seen a ghost and that it was Viktor of all people then.. He didn't even want to begin to imagine what would happen. At least he has Vicchan with him; Vicchan gives him a big amount of security even if he’s a little dog. As the two of them speed walk to the beach, Yuuri’s still tight as a wire from anxiety and fear. He has no idea what happened that morning. He’s scared over the possibility that he had imagined what he saw and he’s also scared that what he’d seen was indeed a ghost. And if Viktor were a ghost.. Why on Earth would he haunt Yuuri???

When the day ends, Yuuri doesn’t exactly forget all about the morning’s incident. Being outside calmed him down somewhat but returning home brought about another bucket full of unease. It’s simultaneously too quiet and not quiet enough in the house. He has dinner with his family and it comforts him somewhat; makes him feel safe. Besides, even if the worry and stress he’d been feeling the entire day had killed his appetite, the part of him that wished for normalcy gave him at least a little of his appetite back. But, after dinner, he’s by himself again. He busies himself with schoolwork and the like but none of it truly helps. He’s still incredibly confused and badly wishes for an answer. 

The thought that it’s too quiet returns to him again. Yuuri turns on his music and lets it play from the speakers of his phone. He prefers earbuds but he’d also like to be able to hear any noises from around him. He closes his eyes and sinks into the music. Inside his head he imagines different dances on the ice and sweeping stadiums and glittering ice. It’s very distracting and he's in the middle of adding more to his indulgent daydream when he hears: “That’s a nice song.”

Yuuri skids backwards on his chair and crashes on the floor. He’s sees a battered pair of thin feet in his line of vision and when his shaky vision looks up he sees Viktor looking down at him. Every part of his exposed skin is covered in purple and red bruises and lacerations. He’s wearing a hospital gown that’s cleaner than the rest of him by comparison, only faint blooms of pink and red rest on it’s sickly green cloth. Yuuri cowers in fear on the floor. 

“Um… Hi,” Viktor gives a little wave and a small smile. “Please don’t freak out---”

Yuuri doesn’t hear the rest of what he says. This is too much. Truly, it’s way too much. He doesn’t know what this is or why it’s happening to him but all he knows is that he needs to get out of his room. Dashing to his door, Yuuri yelps when he can’t open it. As if from another world, he hears Vicchan on the other side of the door barking like crazy.

“Sorry, Sorry, I had to lock it. I need to talk to you---”

“Wh---” “Get out of my room!” Yuuri yells. His vision begins swimming from tears, “Let me out!” He flinches backwards when Viktor draws near. He can’t see his expression, all he can see are the cuts and bruises on his face. “Please, don’t hurt me.” 

“I’m not going to. Please, just listen---”

Yuuri hits his head against his door and shuts his eyes, “I’m going crazy, crazy, going crazy.” He weakly wiggles the door handle and gasps when it opens. Stumbling through the door, the freedom of escape courses a massive wave of relief through him. Yuuri rushes straight downstairs but collapses on the foot of the stairs. When he looks upstairs he sees he wasn't followed. It’s a busy Saturday night in the inn’s restaurant and bar, and that is why no one had heard his yelling from upstairs. It’s a welcome relief to see all these living people in the room that he hides where he is and blankly stares at them as he tries to collect himself. Vicchan is stiff with alertness as he stares at their surroundings and protectively crowds against Yuuri. 

Going through that fear a second time wasn’t any easier. But it does ease away a little fast and leaves him some room to think. What ghost Viktor told him returns to him. He said he wouldn’t hurt Yuuri? And he needed to talk to him? Yuuri tugs at his hair. None of it makes sense. Why Yuuri? He and Viktor didn’t know each other. Yuuri inhales sharply when a thought comes to him: what if Viktor isn’t Viktor at all, but a ghost  _ pretending _ to be him? Is that even possible? Yuuri shakes his head---anything is possible at this point. 

As Yuuri mulls it over some more, Viktor--or whoever it was---didn’t seem to want to hurt him. They even let him go… Should Yuuri listen to them? Should he go  _ back  _ and talk to them? The very thought of that appals him but…he considers it. 

  
  


***

When Yuuri returns to his room, the sour smell of fire and iron is what first clues Yuuri into the fact he’s not alone. Secondly, Vicchan slowly lifts up and begins to growl at something in the dark of his room. Yuuri holds his breath and switches the light on. The same ghost as before stands there like a stroke of bloody paint. Yuuri’s breath stutters and his heart immediately begins to race. But he doesn’t run away. It takes all of his strength and willpower to take a step inside his cold room. Yuuri wearily watches as Viktor's expression shifts from gloom to flickers of hope. 

“Yuuri?” The ghost whispers and then opens their mouth to say something more but falls silent with a sense of uncertainty. 

Unease whirls through Yuuri's body like polluted water. Digging his fingers into his palms, Yuuri shakily asks, “How do you know my name?”

The ghost smiles painfully and runs a nervous hand through their hair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to get this far.” Their hair is long and dirty with grime and dried blood, but there are still parts of it that gleam a dim silver. Somehow, watching their fingers thread through their hair calms Yuuri somewhat and he searches the ghost’s face for any sign of ill-intent. After the ghost collects themselves, the ghost says, “I’m Viktor //. I know you are Yuuri Katsuki because you’ve been speaking to me through your letters.”

“Oh.” Yuuri gapes at the ghost in a confusion more profound than it had ever been before. 

“Yeah… So, hello! I believe we got off on the wrong foot before.” Viktor is smiling again but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s trying to not frighten Yuuri. Yuuri just continues to blink at him in shock. Vicchan whines in confusion and flinches backwards when Viktor tries to pet him. “Your puppy is so cute. I’m flattered that you named him after me, by the way.” He says it lightly but there’s sadness in the way his fingers curl inwards after Vicchan rejects his touch. 

Yuuri finally finds his voice and a scroll of questions unfurl from him, “Is it really you Viktor? Wh--Why would you even be here? What are you doing here? Are you  _ haunting _ me? Why?” There’s so many more questions he wants to ask but really they’re all rephrasing the same thing over and over again. He just wants to know:  _ why? _

“Yes, it’s me. And I’m not haunting you in the way you’re thinking. I don’t want to kill you or hurt you or something. I mean, I don’t want to scare you but it seems I’ve already failed in that regard. But can it really be helped when I look like this?” Viktor looks down at himself and tugs at his hospital gown. The motion is so heartbreaking for some reason and Yuuri suddenly feels ashamed for being so frightened of Viktor in the first place. He believes him when he says that he doesn’t want to hurt him. This Viktor in front of him just looks like a scared and hurt child; nothing like the prince of the ice Yuuri had always admired from afar. “As to why I’m here, I’m… Not really sure…” 

Yuuri furrows his brows in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know why I’m still here.” Viktor looks away. “All I know is that I’m stuck here and...I heard you.”

“Heard me?”

Viktor nods, “I first heard you talking and then, when I came to see where the voice was coming from, I found you writing to me.” There's a warmth to his voice as he looks at Yuuri and says, "I’m happy you’re skating again."

Yuuri's throat constricts and he blinks away a sudden wash of tears that well up. All he can do is nod. There's a pause, and then Yuuri doesn't quite know what to make of Viktor's face when Viktor asks, "Yuuri, would it be alright with you if I stayed here for a bit? I understand if you don't want me to. I can go. I just wanted to--"

"You can stay." Surprise steals over Viktor's expression. And, honestly, Yuuri is surprised as well. This is something either very stupid or very _insane_ that he's done. "But not in my room," Yuuri adds. He clenches his fists and kicks himself inwardly. Yup, this is definitely the stupidest thing he's done. Although one part of Yuuri is certain that Ghost Viktor is definitely going to turn into a malevolent spirit and then murder him in his sleep. Another part of him is pleased to have put that glowing smile on Viktor's face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thx for reading this update! you may be wondering how the two of them understand each other... I wondered that too right after writing this hahaha. but if you'd like some kind of answer, I figured that ghosts have the ability to hear and speak any language. at least, in my au... XD
> 
> idk if I'm really pleased with this story overall. it's just a thing I was writing just for the sake of writing, anyway, I hope it's at least entertaining to read. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like no one is going to read this because Viktor is dead... lmao  
> I swear, Yuuri is not going to be in the Sad Lands for the entirety of this story. 
> 
> Comments are my life blood, please leave one if you like!


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